


Pull a String, See What Unravels

by merriman



Category: Westing Game - Ellen Raskin
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen, How it Might Have Gone, Missing Scene, Pre-Canon, Private Investigators, au: no character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 05:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merriman/pseuds/merriman
Summary: What if Otis Amber reallydidfind Sybil Pulaski? And what if Sybil Pulaski didn't want to be found?"She left school to marry a guy named Windkloppel. Haven't seen or heard from her since. She's not in any trouble, is she?" -Sybil Pulaski





	Pull a String, See What Unravels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesertVixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/gifts).

> I couldn't decide which direction to go in - Sybil was found, or Violet lives - so you get two stories!

It wasn't that Sybil thought she was particularly observant. But she wasn't stupid and she wasn't oblivious and sometimes she got a bad feeling about things and someone was following her. He'd been watching her for the better part of two days and she wasn't amused. Anything she'd done worth the attention of a private dick was well in the past and she wasn't thrilled about the idea that someone was trying to dig into it. Of course, it could be something else entirely, in which case she wanted to know what it was so she could be proud of herself for it.

There was that car again, maroon, with a dent in the driver's side front door. And there was that same man. She'd seen him outside the bookshop and then again outside the pharmacy. He'd been outside her building the day before, but parked further away. Well. Whatever his reason, Sybil planned on finding it out. So when she saw that maroon car, she ducked into a flower shop on the corner, waved hello to her friend Lucille at the counter, then left out the back and went down the alley and around the corner to come at the car - and its driver - from behind.

"Filthy," she commented, brushing some fast food containers off the passenger seat and climbing into the car. "I don't know how you manage, eating garbage all day, doing nothing but waiting for poor, innocent, little old ladies to come and go so you can snap photos. It's unbelievable, honestly."

The man in the driver's seat at least had the grace to look a little abashed. Maybe he didn't feel any guilt about watching her, but he sure as hell felt bad about getting caught.

"What's your name?" she asked. "And why are you following me around?"

He sighed and set his camera down in his lap, then reached into the back seat and handed her a file folder.

"I'm Otis Amber. I was hired to track you down, make sure you're who I was hired to find, then report back. Thing is, I know a friend of yours."

"Of mine?" Sybil opened the folder and went through the contents. Here was her regular routine, written out with times and locations. Here was information on her job, her position, her salary. Here were photos of her at home, at work. And then beyond that were copies of newspaper articles. There was a small story about the bookshop's opening and a piece on her old apartment building being named a historic location. She'd been mentioned in both of them, despite her best efforts. There was even a copy of the birdwatching society newsletter where they'd published a group photo from a tour she'd gone on. All just little dribs and drabs, but enough to find her, she supposed. 

"You recognize the name Crow?" 

Sybil closed the folder and stared at it.

"Haven't heard that name in a long time. You mean Berthe, I assume?"

Otis nodded. "The one and only, far as I know. She's had a rough time of it, I'm sorry to say. But she mentioned you once or twice."

"Is she who hired you?" Sybil asked, mind racing. She'd have to make some calls, arrange some things, if Berthe was looking for her.

"No. I was hired by someone else. Some real estate guy. Figured it must be a coincidence, you being on that list, Crow knowing you. But what if it's not?"

"Mr. Amber, why don't you join me upstairs. I have a feeling we're going to need some coffee and I don't plan on spending the rest of my evening sitting in this car."

Up in Sybil's apartment, she made instant coffee - she wasn't about to wait for the good stuff - and instructed Otis Amber to take a seat and tell her more. 

"Well, see, all this Northrup guy asked me to do was track folks down and let him know if there was anyone I couldn't find. So far I've found almost everyone." He was looking through a notebook and flipping from page to page. Sybil wasn't about to tell him how to do his job, but it didn't seem like that notebook was terribly well organized.

"Who are you missing?" Sybil asked after watching him consult his notebook for a few minutes.

"Oh, this one woman. I think she changed her name. I mean, I would too if my name was Windkloppel. What a tongue twister."

Sybil sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee. Otis Amber was still looking through his notes and didn't seem to notice that Sybil was regarding him with not a small amount of suspicion. He knew Berthe. He was looking for someone named Windkloppel. He was being ever so free with his thoughts now that she'd caught on to him. And he'd been looking for Sybil herself. Something very fishy was going on and Sybil wanted no part of it.

"So, why are you looking for us? Is this some sort of scam?" Sybil asked, startling him enough that he dropped his pencil.

The pencil rolled under the coffee table and Sybil retrieved it, holding it back until Otis looked at her.

"Honestly, lady, I don't know. Northrup's a bit of a slimeball, but all he told me was that he wanted to vet some potential tenants for some new property he's got going up. I was going to see if he needed a cleaning lady, put Crow up for the job. She could use a good break."

Much as Sybil wanted to see her old friend, find out what this was all about, she had a bad feeling. And Sybil trusted her bad feelings. They'd kept her from marrying a creep when she was 19 and they'd kept her from going out with friends one night in college when they'd been drinking a little too much. Sybil's bad feelings had kept her well out of trouble all these years and she intended to continue the streak.

"I'd be careful," Sybil advised him. "Something's not right there. Keep a good eye on Berthe. It's been too long since we saw each other. Used to be like sisters, we were that close. I don't want anything to happen to her."

Otis Amber nodded, taking the pencil she now held out to him. "Yeah. Of course. We've been hanging together for a while now. I watch her back, she keeps me honest."

Sybil peered at him over her coffee, then nodded back. "Good. Now. As for this Northrup man and his property. You said you're vetting tenants? I've got a cousin, Sydelle. She could use a good break too. No reason Northrup needs to know you found the wrong S. Pulaski, right?"

And she'd get the inside scoop from her cousin, who'd be so grateful to get out of that apartment full of aunts, she'd give Sybil any info she asked for. 

"Let me give you her phone number," Sybil said. "And no one ever needs to know you found me at all."


End file.
